


Coat Closet

by romeokijai



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Dates gone wrong, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Sexy, Silly, Smut, The Good Ship Charloe's Valentine's Day Fic Fest, Valentine's Day, charloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:45:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romeokijai/pseuds/romeokijai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. No Blackout. Bass and Charlie haven't seen each other in years and are both on dates with other people on Valentine's Day...dates that aren't going so well. Desperate to escape their current situations, they both end up in the restaurant's coat closet.</p><p>***COMPLETE***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. James and Susan

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from otpdisaster on Tumblr: Your OTP aren’t together and on a date with different people at the same place. After learning they particularly dislike—or are absolutely repulsed by—their respective dates, the two somehow end up hiding in the same cramped supply closet in hopes of avoiding their current date.

 

Charlie Matheson quietly sighs into her wine glass before taking a generous sip of Malbec. She’s on her second glass of the evening, and it’s not doing a damned thing for her. What she really needs is a shot of whiskey or tequila – or maybe several, if she plans to make it through the rest of her date.

She’s not really sure why she even agreed to let her mother, of all people, set her up on a blind date – on Valentine’s Day, no less. But here she is, and she’s regretting her decision more and more as the minutes slowly pass.

Of course, things could be worse, she supposes. James is very good looking – tall, nicely built, dark hair, soft brown eyes. And he’s nice. Like, _really_ nice. He’s sweet and chivalrous and has an old-timey charm about him, despite the fact that he’s only a few years older than Charlie, and the whole damned thing makes her feel a little bad about not enjoying his company.

But she can’t help it. He might be sweet and handsome, but he’s also boring as hell. He’s just…a really nice, safe type of guy. Of course her mother _would_ set her up with someone like him.

“…so, thoughts?” He asks before bringing his own wine glass to his lips.

Charlie’s eyes grow wide, and a warm blush instantly penetrates her cheeks. Shit. She wasn’t listening to a single word he just said.

Much to her relief, James doesn’t seem to notice; he just smiles and patiently waits for her reply.

She forces a smile to her lips and slowly pushes her chair back. “Actually, will you excuse me for a moment? I need to run to the ladies’ room.”

“Of course.” James offers her a polite nod. “In the meantime, I’ll order us more wine.”

Damn it. Does he have to be so nice?! Charlie tries not to frown as she stands up, grabs her purse, and makes a beeline for the restroom.

 

\- - -

 

Bass Monroe considers himself a patient man. He considers himself a tolerant man. He’s a trained U.S. Marine, for God’s sake, and can withstand even the most excruciating types of torture without breaking.

But if he has to sit here and listen to one more cat story, he’s going to lose his fucking mind.  

“And this is Eloise. She’s a Turkish Angora, and she thinks she’s a queen.” The woman across the table – Susan Smith is her name – obliviously giggles and holds up her phone, which, yet again, displays a picture of a cat. This one (the sixth that Bass has had to look at tonight) is white and fluffy and has different colored eyes: one blue and one green.

Bass nods and holds his breath in an effort to contain the irate groan that so desperately wants to explode from his throat. His lips are pressed together in a forced smile as he stares at the photo and then at his date.

“Isn’t she just the most delightful thing you’ve ever seen?” Susan sighs like a proud mother.

Bass watches as she turns the phone around and brings it up to her face. The next thing he knows, she’s kissing the screen.

Okay, that’s it. He can’t take it anymore. This lady is nuts. Beautiful – long, brunette hair, large green eyes, and a very nice rack – but nuts. He needs to get out of here. When he agreed to a blind date with his colleague’s friend on Valentine’s Day, he had no idea his evening would go like this.

“Will you excuse me for a minute?” He pushes his chair back and stands.

“Sure. No problem.” Susan doesn’t even look at him. She’s now wistfully staring at and dragging her finger across her phone's screen.

Bass rolls his eyes. His initial plan was to head to the men’s room, but now he wonders what would happen if he just left all together. Susan would think he’s a jerk, of course, but he’s not sure he really cares.

So, instead of the men’s room, he heads downstairs to the coat check. He really hopes there’s an exit on the lower level of the restaurant so he can grab his jacket and disappear undetected.

Of course, when he gets down there, he sees that there’s no attendant at the coat closet. So he decides to take matters into his own hands. He opens the door and quietly slips inside to retrieve his jacket.

 

\- - -

 

Charlie gasps when the door to the coat closet opens, and light from the restaurant streams in. Shit. She’s about to be caught red-handed. God, what is wrong with her? She’s acting like a child, hiding in a fucking coat closet instead of just going back and finishing out her nice, boring date with James.

Not knowing what else to do at the moment, she quickly shirks away into the darkest corner, behind a rack of heavy, designer name winter coats, and holds her breath.

 _‘Please just leave. Please just leave. Please just leave,_ ’ she silently chants to herself.

But, to her great dismay, her new coat closet companion (a man) begins to rummage through the racks instead. As far as Charlie’s concerned, it’s only a matter of time before he’ll find her.

“Damn it,” the man suddenly curses. “Where is it?”

Charlie instantly freezes.

She knows that voice. Oh, God, she knows that voice so well. But…it couldn’t be… _could_ it?

She doesn’t even have time to really think about the question, because the next thing she knows, the wall of coats behind which she’s hiding suddenly parts, revealing her deer-caught-in-headlights expression to…

Oh, Lord. It’s him.

The closet is dark, illuminated only by a single, dim bulb in the ceiling, making it a bit hard to see, but she’d know those piercing blue eyes anywhere. She has, after all, been dreaming about them for the past ten years.

Shit, even in the dark, he looks good. Like, really, really good. He’s always been hot, but age has done some glorious things for him. And she would be really, really dead if her uncle found out she’s been lusting after his best friend ever since she was a hormonal tween.

She wonders if he even remembers her. She was fourteen the last time they saw each other in person.

“I…uh…I’m sorry. I was just…looking for my coat,” he stammers in that deliciously gruff voice that sends shivers up and down her spine.

She watches, amused, as his eyes rake over her cowered form. He’s checking her out. Holy shit, Sebastian Monroe is actually checking _her_ out!

She clears her throat and slowly stands and doesn’t for a second miss the way his eyes briefly dart down to her thighs, which are now on full display under her little black dress that has ridden up to a dangerously high spot.

Charlie instantly feels a jolt of heat between her legs. She’s pretty certain he doesn’t remember who she is, because if he did, there’s no way he’d be eyeing her like she’s a steak dinner.

“It’s okay.” She slowly pulls down the hem of her dress and almost smirks when she notices the look of disappointment that temporarily flashes across his face.

He chuckles quietly and shakes his head. “Not that it’s any of my business, but may I ask what you’re doing in here? Because I’ve got a pretty strong feeling you’re not the coat attendant.”

She laughs. “No, I’m not. And…I’d rather not say, because I’m not sure there’s a way to tell you without it making me sound like a jerk.”

“Yeah, well…that makes two of us.” He continues to look around for his jacket.

“Huh?” Charlie is intrigued and continues to watch him move about.

Damn, he’s hot. He’s wearing a pair of fitted jeans that hug his legs very nicely and a button down white shirt under a black (or navy…she can’t quite tell in the dark) vest.

He finds his coat and is about to answer, but then they hear voices just outside the door, and before Charlie even knows what’s happening, she feels herself being smashed into the corner of the closet, and then Bass’s tall, _very_ hard body, is suddenly pressed up against hers.

“Shh…” he whispers and moves in even closer.

She gulps. She always imagined this. Well, no, she didn’t imagine being trapped in the coat closet of an Italian bistro with him, but she did imagine his amazing body pressed up against hers, and she can easily admit that the real feeling is far superior to the fantasies that have been dancing around in her head for nearly a decade.

Her boobs are pressed to his chest, her hips touching his hips, thighs against thighs, and—okay, that is definitely a boner pressing into her lower belly.

The realization sends another surge of heat to the spot between her legs, and she immediately feels her own excitement seeping out of her, dampening her panties.

 

\- - -

 

Bass clenches his fists, which are resting against the wall on either side of the sexy blonde’s head. Fuck, she’s hot. Like, really, really hot. She’s young and slender and curvy and firm under that tight black dress that’s not leaving much for the imagination, and having her body so close to his is making him delirious. And hard. His erection is growing against her belly, and there’s not a damned thing he can do about it.

Of course, she could be as crazy as Susan Six Cats, for all he knows. But even if she’s not, she probably thinks he’s a fucking creep for pinning her to the wall before he’s even had a chance to ask her her name. And who can blame her? But what else was he supposed to do? They’ll probably get caught either way, but at least this way, there’s _maybe_ a small chance that they won’t. He sighs and silently prays that the coat attendant – or whoever is just outside – goes away.

He sucks in a sharp breath when Blondie’s fingers find his hips and pull him closer and then trail behind, grasping at his ass.

What the fuck is she doing? Is she trying to make him come in his pants? Because if she doesn’t stop rubbing up against him, he very well might.

“Yes, I’m looking for a young woman…blonde hair, blue eyes. She’s wearing a black dress….” A voice outside the coat closet momentarily distracts them both. “Did she come this way by any chance?”

“Oh no,” Blondie mutters and stops her seductive touching. She leans her forehead against Bass’s shoulder and groans under her breath.

“What?” He quietly asks.

“Shh…he’ll hear you.” She anxiously looks up at him.

Bass raises his eyebrows at her and watches as she guiltily bites her lip. Shit. Her lips are gorgeous. Full and pouty, and he really wants to taste them. But first he needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

“Who?” He asks, despite her reprimanding.

“Shhh!” She glares at him. But then she adds, “James. My date.”

He quietly snorts. “You ditched your date? On Valentine's Day?”

“Will you shut up? He’ll hear us, and then we’ll both be dead.”

He has to do everything in his power to not laugh. So Blondie ditched her date. Just like he ditched his. And now she’s hiding in the goddamned coat closet. With him. Could this night get any weirder?

A sigh of relief escapes her pretty, pouty lips when her date finally thanks the coat attendant and apparently leaves. Everything outside the coat closet becomes quiet again.

She then frowns at Bass. “It’s not what you think.”

He shrugs. “Hey, I ain’t judging.” Who’s he to judge, when he literally just did the exact same thing?  

“This is all my mom’s fault. She set me up with this guy. And….” Her voice trails off for a second.

“And he’s a wack job?” Bass finishes for her. He thinks about stepping back and giving her her space, but a part of him doesn’t really want to.

“See, that’s the thing,” she sighs. And then she sticks her hands into the back pockets of his jeans again. “He’s not a wack job. He’s just…really nice.”

“What’s wrong with nice?” He croaks out. Oh, hell, she’s touching his ass again – his fully clothed ass, but his ass, nonetheless.

“He’s _too_ nice. Boring nice. And I don’t really want nice. Not tonight.” She gives his rear a little squeeze. “I want…experienced. Adventurous. Spontaneous.”

“I see,” he stiffly replies. Shit, she’s driving him crazy, and he wants nothing more than to rip her clothes off and fuck her right here and now.

“So what’s your story?” She asks in a tone that is far too cool and casual for the situation at hand.

“Same thing, more or less.”

His answer causes her to laugh. “Really? Was she nice, too?”

“She kept showing me pictures of her cats. All six of them.”

“That sucks,” she giggles, and it’s the most musical sound he’s ever heard.

He shrugs. He’s suddenly grateful for Boringly Nice James and Cat Crazy Susan Smith. If it hadn’t been for them, he and Blondie wouldn’t have ended up in the coat closet together.

“You wanna get out of here? Go somewhere else?” He suggests. Maybe he’ll regret this decision. But something in his gut tells him he won’t.

She grins mischievously, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. “Yes, please.”


	2. Bass and Charlotte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this turned out smuttier than I intended, lol. Upping the rating just to be safe.

“Aaaaand that just happened.” Charlie can’t stop laughing as she and Bass clumsily climb into the back of a cab together.

“Yes, it did,” he chuckles and settles in beside her.

Her heart rate increases when he wraps his arm around her and pulls her close, his scent – all man and musk – quickly permeating her senses. She melts into his embrace and looks up at him.

“Does this make us horrible people?” She asks, staring into his beautifully blue orbs.

He leans in close till his breath is grazing her lips. “Probably,” he whispers.

She’s about to tell him that she’s not usually the type to ditch a perfectly nice date like she just did – that she’s not really the type to climb into a cab with a stranger she just met in a coat closet (although, technically, he’s not a stranger at all). But the look on his face says he couldn’t care less about any of that. The look on his face says he’s only got one thing on his mind at the moment, and that’s her. He wants her. He wants her bad.

Charlie shivers in anticipation. Bass Monroe wants her. And she wants him. Has wanted him. For as long as she can remember.

“ _Ahem_.” The cabbie’s scratchy voice breaks them both from their lustful daze. “Where to, folks?”

Bass sighs and pulls his face away from Charlie’s, but his arm stays firmly planted around her.

“Let’s go to your place,” she quickly whispers in his ear.

He smiles and winks at her, then gives the old, tired looking gentleman behind the wheel an address and tells him to hurry.

Charlie quietly laughs when the driver shakes his head and puts the car in drive.

 

\- - -

 

Blondie doesn’t waste any time. The car has barely pulled off the curb when she grabs fistfuls of Bass’s jacket and yanks him down to her.

He doesn’t protest, and lets her manhandle him as much as she wants. She’s clearly on a mission, and he is happy to help her accomplish it.

Their lips meet, and he instantly moans as the softness of her lips clouds his senses. The kiss isn’t even all that hot and heavy just yet, but just the sheer mouth-to-mouth contact is enough to set his nerves on fire. God, if kissing her feels this good, he can only imagine what it will feel like to bury himself inside of her. His cock twitches at the mere thought.

She licks and nips at his top lip, then his bottom one, and then urgently tries to push her tongue into his mouth. He smiles against her mouth and parts his lips, allowing her the access she seeks.

She moans appreciatively and brings her hands to his hair, threading her slender fingers into his slightly gelled curls, while greedily sucking on his tongue.

His hands quickly unbutton her pea coat and find their way to her breasts; he gives her a little squeeze over her dress – a move she clearly likes, because she responds by arching toward him and kissing him more urgently.

Bass eventually leaves her lips and begins to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses along the length of her smooth neck. She pants and moans and continues to toy with his hair while he works his way over to her pulse point and gives her a little bite, before soothing the spot with his tongue.

“Mm…” she sighs before pulling his face back up to her own and slamming her mouth against his. She kisses him passionately, aggressively, thoroughly; it’s intense and carnal and hungry.

By the time they arrive at Bass’s apartment building, they are both flushed and rumpled and giggling. Bass practically throws his money at the cab driver and then grabs Blondie’s hand and yanks her out of the car and into the chilly February night.

She bumps into his chest, and he wraps his arms around her, then crushes her mouth with his in yet another hungry kiss. God, she tastes so good. And the more he kisses her, the more of her he wants.

He playfully nips at her bottom lip one more time before breaking the kiss and grabbing her hand again. Neither of them say a word but the air around them is heavy with anticipation as he leads her inside his building and up a flight of stairs to the second floor, where his apartment awaits them.

 

\- - -     

 

Charlie’s heart hammers inside her chest as Bass leads her into his apartment and closes the door behind them. She still can’t believe she’s here, with _him_. She can’t believe this is really happening.

She anxiously watches as he flips on the lights, tosses his keys into a glass bowl that sits on a small table just next to the door, and shrugs off his jacket.

He has her pinned to the wall within seconds, his hot mouth colliding into hers, while his curious hands travel down to her hips, giving her a firm squeeze over the fabric of her dress.

She throws her arms around his shoulders and kisses him back with great fervor, savoring the wonderful taste of his mouth, the perfect feel of his scruff as it scrapes against her face, and the softness of his fluid tongue as it dances against hers. God, he’s the _best_ kisser. She’s kissed her fair share of guys before, but none of them can even begin to compare to Bass. He definitely knows exactly what he’s doing, every stroke of his tongue sending her senses into overdrive.

The next thing she knows, his firm hands are on her ass, and he’s lifting her up. She doesn’t miss a beat and wraps her long legs around his waist, limbs tangling just above his ass (and she makes particular note of his ever-growing bulge) while her arms remain wrapped around his shoulders.

He breaks their kiss and stares deep into her eyes, and she nearly comes right there. Shit. She's always been in love with his eyes, but they're even hotter when they’re hazy with desire – for _her_.  

“Bedroom?” He rasps out.

“Bedroom.” She quickly nods.

And that’s all the permission he needs. He carries her down the hall and kicks open his bedroom door, walking them inside, and then letting her slide to her feet just beside his king-sized bed. 

Charlie’s feet have barely reached the floor before she’s reaching for the buttons on his vest. She undoes each one as rapidly as her fingers will allow and pushes off the offending material. Then she frowns. There are more buttons – the buttons on his button down shirt – underneath.

She decides she doesn’t have time to undo each one and instead just rips his shirt open. Buttons go flying in the process.

“Well…that works,” he snickers and shrugs off his shirt.

Charlie licks her lips as she drinks in the magnificent sight before her. Holy shit, he’s beautiful. In fact, he’s even more perfect that she remembers.

She only ever had the chance to see him with his shirt off once, many years ago, when he, Miles, and her dad were building her brother Danny a tree house in the backyard of her parents’ home. She was thirteen at the time, sitting in the kitchen, minding her own business, when he strolled in, all sweaty and shirtless, to retrieve some water from the fridge. He had smiled and said hello, and she had bolted from the room as quickly as possible, because he was way too gorgeous and way too naked for her thirteen-year-old self to handle.

But now she’s twenty-three, and he is utterly flawless. All those years in the Marines have definitely worked in his favor. The skin of his torso is tight and tan and smooth, resting beautifully over lean, rigid muscles.

And Charlie can’t wait to touch him. All of him.

He lets out a soft sigh when her fingers finally make contact with his bare skin.

She sucks in a breath and rakes her fingertips across his chest, over his nipples, then down his firm, rippling abdomen till she reaches the waistband of his jeans.

She’s just about to undo his belt buckle, but he stops her.

Her head snaps up and she looks at him, startled. Shit. Is he changing his mind? Fuck, what if he remembers her?

But her worries die right then and there when he turns her around and reaches for the zipper of her dress.

She moans when his lips touch her shoulder, then the back of her neck, and then lower and lower, following the path of his fingers as he unzips her dress, exposing inch after inch of her warm skin. His movements are slower now, more deliberate and tactical, and they cause Charlie to shudder.

He’s on his knees and his lips are on the small of her back by the time her dress becomes a pool at her feet. His hands continue to roam her newly revealed skin, hot strokes against her toned thighs, her flat belly, her rounded hips, and her ass.

She nearly jumps when he slides a finger between her legs and caresses her over the damp fabric of her panties.

He chuckles wickedly and applies more pressure, causing her clit to come to life. “Mmm…already so wet.”    

Charlie reaches behind and unclasps her bra, yanking off the garment and tossing it aside. She wants – no, needs – to be fully naked; she also needs him to be fully naked. She turns around and faces him, giving him a good view of her bare breasts.

He doesn’t say anything, but his expression is deeply appreciative as her stares up at her. Then he silently reaches for her hips, pulling her close, and encloses his lips around one of her nipples, his eyes wide and fixed on hers the entire time.

She nearly loses it when he begins to tease her right breast with his tongue while his forefinger and thumb roll and pull at her left nipple. Her fingers thread into his hair again, and she’s about to slide into his lap to give him better access to her breasts, but before she can, he lifts her up, mouth still attached to her tit, and lays her on the bed. His lips and tongue then continue their tantalizing movements as he alternates from one breast to the other, his mouth leaving a cool, wet trail across her chest.

Charlie can’t remember the last time someone worshipped her body like this. In fact, she’s not sure anyone ever has. She finds herself torn between wanting him to continue what he’s doing and wanting him to hurry the hell up and get inside of her.

“You’re still—oh God—still…wearing your pants,” she reminds him in a shallow pant.

He chuckles against her chest and looks up at her. “You’re right.”

“That’s gonna be problem.” She pushes herself onto her elbows and watches him.

“Well…we can’t have that, now, can we?” He stands up and unbuckles his jeans.

Charlie sucks in a sharp breath and holds it, watching in absolute wonder as he carefully slides out of his jeans, revealing muscled thighs and a huge bulge hidden behind the thin fabric of his boxers. He then unties his shoes, kicks them off, peels off his socks and tosses them aside, and then finally reaches for his boxers.

His thick, long, and fully erect cock finally comes into view.

Fuck.

Bass Monroe is perfect. No, _better_ than perfect. He’s a fucking god on earth, and he’s here, about to take her in the very way she’s dreamed about for years.

She shivers, suddenly feeling a bit intimidated. For all her years of fantasizing, she realizes he’s still bigger than she ever imagined. At the same time, her fingers burn with heated longing. She can’t wait to wrap her fingers around him.

“Your turn,” he growls and reaches for her already-drenched panties.

He slides the tiny black fabric down her legs, stopping only to untangle them from around her feet (her strappy red shoes are still on), and then throws them to the floor with the rest of their clothing.

“These stay,” he says in a low, commanding whisper.

He’s talking about her shoes; and Charlie is more than happy to accommodate his demand.

 

\- - -

 

Bass drops to his knees at the side of the bed. He pulls Blondie’s hips toward himself, till her ass is just at the edge of the mattress, her long, pretty legs cascading over the side in a 90-degree angle.

He pushes her thighs farther apart and takes in the view. Damn, she has the most perfect looking pussy he’s ever seen. Her skin is flushed and glistening, wet flesh engorged with lustful need, and he can’t wait to devour her.

He licks his lips and brings his face close to her heat, breathing in the distinct scent of her desire. His eyes trail up to hers, and he finds her carefully watching him. Her blue eyes are huge, pupils blown, filled to the brim with excitement and yearning, and they widen with anticipation when his fingers reach up and push back the hood of her clit. His gaze is bold and never leaves hers as he juts out his tongue and gives her a generous swipe.

“Fuck,” she whimpers and slams her eyes shut when his tongue rapidly flicks over her clit.

Her cursing sends a rush of blood straight to his already-throbbing cock, and it’s all the motivation he needs (as if he needed any more in the first place) to do whatever it takes to give her the most earth-shattering orgasm she’s ever had in her life.

She did, after all, say she wanted to have a fun evening, and he has every intention of making her night one she won’t soon forget.

He tenaciously licks along the entire length of her drenched slit, from the bottom to the top, savoring her tangy, spicy flavor, using his tongue to thoroughly explore her delicate folds, before focusing his attention back on her clit again. She purrs and hums and whimpers and squirms, and her hips threaten to fly right off the bed until his forearm firmly lands on top of her lower belly, pinning her in place. He then pushes one finger, then another, into her heat and begins to pump in and out of her while his lips and tongue continue their brutal treatment on her swollen, throbbing knot of nerves.

 

\- - -

 

Charlie shoves the back of her hand into her mouth in an attempt to stifle her scream when her orgasm violently rips through her like a freight train. Her toes curl, her hips buck, and she loses all sense of control as she plummets over the edge, straight into a place of unmitigated ecstasy.  

“That’s it, baby…” Bass encourages her before bringing his tongue back to her clit.

Fuck. She pulls at his hair with her free hand and continues to bite down on the other one, because she knows if she doesn’t, she’ll scream his name out loud, and she’s not ready for this to end – not yet.

The rest of her body writhes and convulses against Bass’s wickedly skilled mouth. Her vaginal walls contract in tremors around his fingers as he buries them deep and curls them inside of her, pushing her over even more to a place she never even knew she could reach.

She’s a boneless, satisfied mass of limbs by the time he finally pulls his fingers and tongue away from her skin. She opens her eyes and can hardly see straight as she tries to recover from her high.

She watches through deliriously hooded eyes as he stands and slowly licks his fingers before joining her on the bed.

He lowers his mouth to hers and kisses her deeply, his tongue swirling around inside her mouth, leaving the taste of her on her own tongue. It’s the hottest, most erotic kiss she’s ever received in her life, and she wonders if it’s possible to have an orgasm from a kiss. 

While their lips continue their play, Charlie reaches between their bodies and grabs his cock. He instantly grunts into her mouth and thrusts himself into her hand.

She loves the feel of him against her palm, loves the way he groans and moves as she intimately strokes and teases his skin. He’s so big and stiff and long and she wants him inside. She’s not even sure she has fully recovered from her last orgasm, but she knows she needs to feel him in the depths of her core.

“What do you want?” He whispers against the shell of her ear, as if he's just read her mind.

“You. Inside,” she sighs. “Please.”

He doesn’t need a second invitation. He takes himself in hand, gives himself a couple of strokes, then slips his bulbous head between her swollen pussy lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, slowly pushing into her heat.

“More. I want more,” she moans. Oh God, he’s huge. Like, really, really huge. And it’s making her really, really excited.

 

\- - -  

 

Holy fuck, she’s tight. Blondie is so. fucking. tight.

Bass sucks in a breath and holds it while pushing further and further into her sex until he’s buried all the way, his entire cock being squeezed by her narrow, wet channel.

“You good?” He asks her. He’s almost worried he’s hurting her.

“Better than good. Perfect.” She smiles, and it’s the most devastatingly beautiful smile he’s ever witnessed.

He begins to move against her in what start out as slow, thorough thrusts, giving her body a chance to adjust to his girth, but he can only handle that pace for so long. It quickly escalates into something far more heated, and soon he’s plowing into her in quick, deep motions that are primal and urgent and damned near desperate.

God, she feels good. She feels fucking perfect, really. Her body melts around him, sucking him into her depths, pushing him closer and closer to his edge with each heated stroke.

He’s right on the brink of orgasm and has every intention of pulling out, but before he can do so, she reaches between them and caresses his balls, and before his brain can even register what’s happening, he’s suddenly shooting his hot, thick load directly into her core.

“Shit!” He groans, his eyes filled with worry as they seek out hers. He’s about to say he’s sorry, but his apology dies before it ever makes it to his lips.

She giggles and winks at him, then grabs his hand and pulls it to her clit. “My turn,” she states in a low, throaty whisper.  

He can’t help but laugh. Blondie is really something.

He swipes his thumb over her little nub, and a few strokes are all it takes to send her barreling over the edge as well. Her body tenses, inner walls violently licking at his shaft, and she screams out a string of curse words before melting limply into the mattress behind her.

“So, so good…” she gulps down air in an effort to compose herself before slowly fluttering open her eyes and meeting his gaze.

He stares at her for a long while before reaching down and pushing a few stray hairs out of her face. God, she’s beautiful – like a goddamned angel. She’s especially beautiful with her post-sex, mussed blonde hair and her deliciously flushed skin, for which he is entirely responsible.

He smiles at her, and she smiles back before pulling him down for a tender kiss.

“You wanna spend the night?” He mindlessly mumbles against her lips before he even realizes what he’s saying.

Blondie’s mouth and body freeze beneath him. She puts her hand on his chest and gently pushes him back in an effort to look at him.

Bass freezes, too, and suddenly mentally curses himself. What the fuck was he thinking? That’s the problem. He _wasn’t_ thinking. He never asks his one-night stands to stay the night with him. Then again, none of his other one-nights stands have been…well, Blondie. His eyes are wide as he silently stares back at her, waiting for her response.

Her blue orbs search his for a moment, and then she exhales a slow breath. “Are you sure?”

Bass nods, feeling a little pathetic. “I mean…if you want to. You don’t have to if—”

“Okay,” she cuts him off and coyly bites her bottom lip.

He raises his eyebrows at her. “Okay? As in…you’ll stay?”

She nods. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”

 

\- - -

 

Bass’s blue eyes light right up, and Charlie suddenly feels like her heart is going to explode from utter gratitude. To think that just a few hours ago, she was sitting in some stupid Italian restaurant with Super Nice James, and now she’s here, in Bass Monroe’s bed, having just been delightfully fucked by Bass himself – and now he’s asking her to stay the fucking night.

She should probably tell him who she is, but she’s still too afraid to ruin the magic. The last thing she wants is him kicking her out in the middle of the night because he’s too afraid to simply sleep – like, actually sleep – with his best friend’s niece.

She is lost in her thoughts and only breaks from them when she feels him pull out of her. She didn’t even realize he was still in her until he’s gone.

He then reaches for her heels and begins to gently unbuckle the straps. He takes off her right shoe, then her left, and drops them on the floor, at the foot of the bed.

Her heart flutters when he pulls back the covers, slips underneath, and motions for her to join him. She can feel the girlish smile growing across her face, but she doesn’t even care. She quickly crawls under the covers and snuggles up beside him.

His skin is warm and his arms are strong as he envelops her from behind and pulls her close, till her backside is flush against his front. Within minutes, his breathing turns steady and Charlie hears his light snoring.

She smirks to herself and burrows further into his embrace. “Goodnight, Bass,” she ever so quietly whispers and closes her eyes.  

 

\- - -

 

Bass wakes up the next morning and squints against the harsh sunlight that’s streaming through his bedroom window. He and Blondie were so busy last night that he didn’t even bother to draw the curtains closed.

A grin forms on his lips as he remembers the way the moonlight looked against her perfect, smooth skin….

But the grin is short lived when he realizes that his arms are currently empty, and he’s alone in his bed – which isn’t at all how he fell asleep.

He looks around and frowns when he notices the small note on the empty pillow next to him. But he picks it up and unfolds it anyway.

 

_Morning, Stud._

_Thanks for the perfect Valentine’s Day…or night…whatever we’re calling it._

_Wanna meet for breakfast? I’ll be at that little waffle place on 1 st and Harvard at 10 a.m. _

_After you read this, I’m sure you’ll have…well, some questions._

 

_Your Spontaneous Valentine/Coat Closet Companion,_

_Charlotte Matheson_

_xoxo_

 

Bass’s stomach does a brutal flip as he stares at the note. He reads it again, then again, and then a third time to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him, his gaze stopping every time at the name.

Did he really just fuck Charlotte – as in Miles’s niece, Charlotte – last night? The same little girl he used to tease mercilessly for having a crush on him back in the day?

But that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that he wants to do it again. Fuck her, that is. _And_ again.

Miles’s niece or not, Blondie was a lot of fun.

Bass glances at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It’s 9:40 a.m. If he hurries, he can probably catch her. He smiles deviously to himself and pushes the covers back.

**\- THE END -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be kind and leave a review!


End file.
